


Hey Mr. Officer, let's play shots

by exosweave



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drug Lord Baekhyun, M/M, Officer Chanyeol, Police, Psycho Baekhyun, mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosweave/pseuds/exosweave
Summary: cop park chanyeol x druglord byun baekhyun - 18+
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 15
Kudos: 85





	Hey Mr. Officer, let's play shots

He hears the phone ring again.  
  
Third time that night. It makes the hair at the back of his neck stand up.  
  
_Something isn’t right._  
  
Telephone booths at the other side of the road aren’t supposed to ring. And people are supposed to pick up when they do.  
  
But it’s the third time already - phone rings nine times exactly before its cuts off again - and there’s no one in sight. No movement in other buildings or apartment blocks. No people on the rainy street in front of him.  
  
He has his coat on already. Swore to go pick up that phone if it rang again, but now that it does he isn’t so sure of that decision anymore.  
  
Until the phone rings for the tenth time and doesn’t cut off after that.  
  
He rushes to his apartment door, leaving it open in his hurry as he runs across the street to answer.  
  
_He just has to know._  
  
“Hello?”  
  
The pouring rain doesn’t hit him anymore inside of the booth. Now standing inside, breath and body hot and warm, the booth is fogging up already.

“Hello, mister Officer,” a smug voice from the other side of the phone comes.  
  
His stomach drops. How did he-?  
  
“Let’s play shots.”  
  
He doesn’t really understand what he means, but still he wipes the glass of the booth clean to look back at his appartment windows where the light is still on.  
  
“Cute pup.”  
  
He hits the glass of the phone booth as if it would make any difference. “Please! Please, don’t hurt Toben!” he shouts, tears in his eyes as he clearly sees the outline of the gun in the petite man’s hands. Now standing inside of his very own house.  
  
There’s laughter at the other side of the phone, but he doesn’t even see the other’s shoulders shake when the answer finally comes, “I wasn’t talking about that ugly dog.”  
It’s his own fault. He has gotten to close.  
  
Should’ve known he shouldn’t have went to that underground club on his own. But of course, Chanyeol just had to be so naive. Stupid to belief he would blend in. Stupid to believe no one had even noticed his presence.  
  
“You weren’t wearing those glasses last time.”  
  
At the mention of them, Chanyeol pushes the round spectacles further up his nose.  
  
No, he hadn’t been wearing them last time. They wouldn’t blend in in Club Exo.  
  
Suddenly his cellphone buzzes.  
  
“Sehun’s still at the police station right,” the man in his appartment muses, humming the exact content of the text message he just received on his phone. “Really wants to find information about the red tiger.”  
  
It’s spot on. Chanyeol’s fingers are shaking so much, he almost drops his phone.  
  
“Why didn’t you tell your little colleague about me, huh? We could’ve had so much fun together. Now little Sehun is going to play shots all alone.”  
  
“P-please.”  
  
“Please what?”  
  
“Please- leave him alone. Please.”  
  
“Then who do I play with, Chanyeol?”  
  
He gasps for air.  
  
“Me?”  
  
***  
  
Club Exo was a treacherous lair. Men and woman alike turning their bodies around stripper poles like snakes. Money going hand to hand way too easily. Overseen by a man who people in fear only referred to as ‘the red tiger’.  
  
For months that red tiger had been just that: red. The color of danger.  
  
They knew nothing of its identity. Except for the fact that they owned Seoul’s biggest nightclub and practically ran the entire underground of the city.  
  
No one ever saw his face.  
  
The special unit has been after him for months now. Sehun trying to hack into every security system and camera he could, since the legal process of acquiring information was so tediously slow.  
  
Nothing.  
  
But here he is. One visit to that devil’s club later. So simple, Chanyeol feels like crying.  
  
He’s ruined all of their hard work.  
  
His leg is shaking on the gas pedal. Gun attached to the back of his head. Hands cuffed to the steering wheel. Restricting his movements. If he thought of jumping out of the car in the middle of the highway, it’s long gone.  
  
Maybe he should crash. Things would probably end better for him.  
  
But there’s something about the slender hand sliding down his chest that has his mind tricked into wanting to drive to whatever destination the man has in mind.  
  
“There’s an exit coming up. Take it.”  
  
Chanyeol does. It’s some sort of pit stop slash parking lot at the side of the highway. Except this one also has a low building with a lonely neon sign spelling ‘motel’.  
  
He makes the mistake of looking into the rearview mirror as he parks the car. Making eye contact with the devil seated behind him. The pair of dark orbs just peeking out over his shoulder.  
  
The man’s clever. Even going as far as having him text Sehun while driving. Chanyeol hates texting and driving.  
  
He’s also very petite, he notices as he crawls to the front of the car to uncuff him. He already saw his silhouette at his apartment window, but seated next to him it’s even more obvious.  
  
His fingers are long, slim and skilled as they work their way around Chanyeol’s wrists to remove the handcuffs. Chanyeol doesn’t see where he puts them though. He’s too focused on the metal being pushed into his forehead now.  
  
“Listen up, Park,” the man hisses, forcing him to look at him as he almost hits him in the head with his gun. “Let’s play a pre-game.”  
  
***

The pre-game is nothing he expected it to be.  
  
He’s standing on some scruffy carpet in the lobby of the motel. His knees are shaking as he’s waiting for the employee to look up from her computer. The faux-sleeping man in his arms feels thirty pounds heavier with the gun he’s hiding somewhere underneath his clothes.  
  
“Yes?” the woman finally speaks.  
  
“Do you have a room for two to spare for me and my husband?” He can’t believe he’s lying about this.  
  
She barely looks at them besides giving him a dirty look. But of course she has a room left. The man has never met him and he already knows everything about him. His name. His address. His colleagues.  
  
Somehow he feels naked now, with the top buttons of his shirt hanging open. He can still feel the man’s fingers digging at the nape of his neck, ordering him to unbutton them for him.  
  
He can still feel the pair of lips sucking at the skin right above his collar. He knows it’s starting to bruise already.  
  
Part of the game, he had smirked smoothly.  
  
Chanyeol now knows it’s part of his cover. A way for him to walk out when all of this is over. He doesn’t really want to think too much about that ‘when’.  
  
His heart is pounding so much, he knows the smaller man must feel it. He does his absolute best to keep the panic from his face though as he watches the woman search for the key.  
  
“Room 614.” She drops it in his shaking hand, but if she notices it she doesn’t say a word.  
  
It makes him wonder if she has seen the man he’s holding more often. Although, that literally wouldn’t make sense. Christ, he’s so stupid. He now realizes as he’s struggling to open the door of the motel room. They keep appearances up until the door falls shut behind him.  
  
The man giggles as he drops back to the floor, “such a clumsy actor.” He tilts his head as he walks backwards – further into the room – while pinpointing his forehead again with his gun. “Good thing the second act is yet to come though. You can still redeem yourself.”  
  
Is this all a game to him?  
  
Every muscle in his body screams he should run. The door is right behind him after all. But even his stupid brain knows one plus one is two. He’ll have his brains shot out as soon as his fingers touch the doorknob.  
  
“Back on the mattress. Now.”  
  
Right when Chanyeol moves to do just that, he trips over something. The man’s feet, apparently.  
  
“How many times do I have to tell you? Shoes off when you come home.”  
  
He blinks at him. Mind slow. He’s still trying to understand, but he does as he’s been told. He slowly pushes himself up from the floor, afraid he’ll have him trip a second time. But when he doesn’t, he makes his way backwards until the back of his knees hit the side of the bed. He lets himself fall.  
  
“Higher, pup,” his voice sweeter than vanilla, “wrists to the headboard.” He’s bringing out the cuffs again.  
  
Chanyeol swallows nervously at the sight of them. But still, he does as he’s been told. Not wanting to risk any repercussions. Even when he doesn’t know what they would hold, he has a feeling they won’t be nice.  
  
The metal really hurts his skin. They’re closed way too tight, he knows with his experience as an officer. Then again, why would the criminal in front of him care about his wellbeing. He doesn’t follow the law to begin with.  
  
“Tell me. What do you know about me?” the man begins as he moves to reclaim his position at the end of the bed again.  
  
In this position and with this lighting, he finally has a moment to take a proper look at the devil in front of him.  
  
The red tiger…  
  
The nickname was impressive, just like the figure in front of him was. But somehow, those two didn’t really seem to fit together in his mind.  
  
Somewhere along the way Chanyeol had pictured the red tiger to be someone more… intimidating. Threatening, rather. Although the gun pointed at his head was doing the trick pretty damn effective.  
It can’t be him, he thinks to himself over and over again. Not realizing how his mouth is hanging open, completely stupefied as he just gazes at him in pure disbelief.  
  
He’s too petite. Hips too prominent and waist too slender. If anything related to that underground club, he’d pass more for a stripper than a billionaire Mafiosi.  
  
“Lost your tongue? Don’t make me come and find it, Park.”  
  
Did he- Did he just say that?  
  
“Nothing!” he bursts out. His mouth feels so dry all of a sudden. “I know nothing.”  
  
He can’t help but fumble his legs around as his nerves kick back in, ruining the freshly made bed in the process. Just like the improvised lobby, the motel room looks scruffy. The perfect place for a crime scene, his officer brain can’t help to conclude.  
  
His body stiffens at the sound of the safety pin coming off.  
  
“Hmm. Didn’t take you for a cheater,” he mumbles as he tilts his head to the side as if he’s deep in thought. “I’m not going to ask nicely again.”  
  
“I-I swear,” his voice shakes as the bed dips underneath the extra weight. “I don’t. I don’t know you.”  
  
“Then why are you so afraid, pup,” the petite man chuckles low as he moves to straddle his lap. The gun now casually resting underneath Chanyeol’s chin.  
  
He wants to laugh and cry at the same time. There’s a gun pointed at his fucking head, for starters. Of course he’s scared.  
  
“Why did you visit my club looking like someone else?” he continues, face falling flat as he looks down at him.  
  
“Someone… Someone else?”  
  
He just laughs before he leans in. Lips brushing against his ever so lightly. “Hot,” he grins. He reaches up, slender fingers taking his glasses off. “Can you see?”  
  
He’s quick to nod.  
  
“Good.” He throws the pair somewhere Chanyeol can’t see. “Now answer my questions.”  
  
“I-“ The officer tries swallowing against the hard metal being pushed against his throat. “Because- Because you’re the red tiger?”  
  
The man’s expression changes. Jaw clenching as his eyes harden. “Answer. Questions,” he hisses, “Not asking, Park.”  
  
He tries to apologize. But right before a ‘sorry’ is able to fall from his mouth, the barrel of the gun is shoved past his lips.  
  
“Suck.” It’s a command. His finger is permanently attached to the trigger.  
  
He shivers. The hair on his neck standing up as he tastes metal. The cold of it hurts his teeth. He feels like his mouth isn’t even big enough to take it.  
  
It’s an innuendo. He gets it damn well. Every inch of his body refusing, yet he still finds himself doing it. Until the gun touches the back of his throat and the lack of oxygen is making his head spin and his eyes water. He’s going to choke to death. Gagging, he panics.  
  
It lasts ages. The man not seeming to care for Chanyeol’s struggles at all while he starts to rut his hips on his lower abdomen. He can feel his dress shirt starting to rile up underneath the man’s frantic movements.  
  
There’s a trail of saliva connected to the end of it as the gun’s finally pulled out of his mouth.  
  
“Knew you were some agent that doesn’t know how to get laid,” the man sounds awfully pleased with his own ability to read people.  
  
The man may be right about him, but Chanyeol’s virgin ass still recognizes lust in someone’s eyes when he sees it. He isn’t sure what it means though when the man starts to stare him down, biting his bottom lip as he does. Is he going to blow his brain out with that revolver or with those plump lips?  
  
He uses the wet weapon to trace a line all the way from his lips down his chest. Passing his chin, the hickey in his neck, right between his collarbones. The barrel hooks at the top of his shirt, right where the buttons aren’t opened all the way down.  
  
Just then the phone in his pocket buzzes again. They both forgot about that completely.  
  
It kind of feels like a cold shower when the petite man leaves him hanging to reach for it. Although he should probably feel some kind of relief.  
  
Panting heavily, he can only watch the criminal unlock his phone by bringing it up to his tied hands. There’s nothing he’s able to do about it now: he has access to everything.  
  
And he knows it damn well, for he’s smiling as he leisurely continues to roll his hips. Casually holding the phone down for Chanyeol to see as well.  
  
He starts off by typing a reply to his colleague Sehun, surprisingly quick considering he’s texting with one hand. He follows it by checking his browser history. Giggles childlike as he comments: “No porn?”  
  
His cheeks turn embarrassingly red at the mention.  
  
There isn’t much to see on his phone. He knows. He’s glad. However his heartbeat picks up as soon as the man starts scrolling through his camera-roll.  
  
There are pictures of his parents, his sister and her groom on their wedding day, his dog, all the colleagues at the police station and his best friends at their favorite café.  
  
Surprisingly though, he stops scrolling in order to zoom in on one of his gym pictures. Stilling the movements of his hips completely. “Shit,” he almost looks disgusted, “I thought you were a complete nerd.”  
  
In other circumstances, he’d be offended. But this is a life or death situation.  
  
He tosses the phone away a little too eagerly. Looking like a child on Christmas morning as he starts to pull at the fabric, not giving a shit about the wrapping paper. Or the buttons of his dress shirt, in this case.  
  
“Shit,” he repeats under his breath this time.  
  
He feels naked underneath his piercing stare. Eyes enough to undress the rest of him.  
  
He hisses as the cold metal returns to his skin. Picking up the trail where he left off.  
  
“We’re going to have so much fun, Park,” he moans downright sinful as the gun moves lower and lower. Both of their gazes completely hooked to it.  
  
He can’t think rationally anymore. “Wh-What are you going to do with m-me?” His voice trembles as a hand joins the weapon near the rim of his pants. Unbuttoning it smoothly.  
  
“Play.”  
  
There’s a hot mouth on him before he knows it.  
  
He can’t help but let out a loud whine as the man swallows him whole in one go. A sharp contrast to Chanyeol’s struggles mere minutes ago. He never imagined his first ever blowjob to include a set of handcuffs, but he certainly doesn’t think of complaining.  
  
He shouldn’t enjoy this.  
  
Yet he does. Craving to hold onto something for support. Legs trembling as his clothed thighs are held in a death grip. He struggles to keep still. Arching his back of the mattress at every wave of pleasure. The pain in his wrists feels dull compared to the desperate need to finish.  
  
But the man doesn’t allow him to cum. Letting his dick fall from his mouth with a lazy plop. He looks bored.  
  
Meanwhile Chanyeol’s a mess. Barely keeping it together at the sudden loss of contact. Whimpering he throws his head backwards. Pressing his mouth against his own shoulder to keep quiet. Still, his lower lip trembles. Eyes fluttering shot as he tries to hold everything in.  
  
“Needy,” he hears the seductive whisper next to his ear. “Don’t worry, pup. I’ll let you cum.”  
  
The gun’s leisurely being pressed against his skin again. Only this time a warm hand joins it. Running up his abdomen. Delicate fingers tracing the deep contours of his abs.  
  
“Just answer my questions,” he sounds and smiles like a snake as he pinches one of his nipples without any warning.  
  
He yelps. Cheeks turning redder than he’s ever held possible as he involuntarily bucks his hips against the man’s ass. The short amount of friction is enough to drive him insane in one second alone.  
  
“Fuck-“ he makes the man curse out loud, “don’t be so hard on me, Park.”  
  
One second he still appears to be a man with a plan: the criminal ready to slam his head in if he doesn’t answer his questions in a heartbeat.  
  
The next minute, it’s all gone.  
  
Chanyeol’s feeling oddly calm about the gun being dropped on the pillowcase right next to his head.  
  
It’s the vision in front of him that has his nerves spiraling. Seated on top of him, rather.  
  
Luscious thighs are being exposed as the man strips himself of his pants without hesitation. In all of his fright, he didn’t even notice how much the leather had clung to them until he hears the sound of how it’s being pulled off with a bit of a hassle.  
  
It isn’t the most sexy movement. But the contrast of the dark black and the milky white skin underneath it makes it a sight worthy enough to be tattood on the inside of his eyeballs.  
  
Plump, kissable lips curved around those slender fingers as the man starts sucking on his own digits.  
  
Chanyeol can’t help but watch and be mesmerized by him. It’s easy to forget he’s a criminal. A drug lord. Although he could get high on getting sucked off by him.  
  
He lets his digits fall from his lips. Snakes his hand around his back to reach somewhere the officer can’t see.  
  
Chanyeol’s eyes widen as the man starts moaning.  
  
“Cute,” the man comments with a husky laugh. Watching his reaction as he continues to play by himself. The thought of absolutely corrupting that innocence probably riling him up even more.  
  
Part of Chanyeol just wants to get uncuffed. Wants his fingers on him. Inside of him too. But the other part – the one with enough common sense to realize he’s dealing with someone that belongs behind bars – prefers the act of just watching.  
  
He kind of feels bad for it. Like some filthy voyeur. He’s spent years as a teenager wanting his first time to be special and now he’s going to lose it to… this. To sex without emotions. A stranger. Not even a proper one night stand.  
  
He has so many mixed feelings about it. He shouldn’t want it – he’s kidnapped and handcuffed to the bed, for god’s sake – but he does. He’s scared, but excited at the same time.  
  
And he’s afraid to think about it – admit it to himself, especially – but he likes the threat of it all. He wants the gun attached to his forehead again as they fuck.  
  
He wants his brains fucked out by this man and he’s willing to beg for it, he realizes now.  
  
But he doesn’t have to. The man seems to be a mind reader.  
  
“You like this, huh?” he grins all teeth and sex as he continues to work himself open like he does it every other day and he probably does, Chanyeol’s able to figure out.  
  
“You do this often?” he counters, not sure where that sudden burst of confidence came from. He immediately loses it again as the man halts his movements, looking like he changed his mind again.  
  
“No questions, Park.” But instead of punishing him and pulling away, he throws himself on him.  
  
It’s all teeth and tongue when he attacks his mouth. Hunger and lust. But at least Chanyeol doesn’t feel too overwhelmed this time, as he has kissed someone before. Just not in such an embarrassing position.  
  
He wants to take over but he can’t. Completely subjected to the man’s will and above all his tongue, as he laps at the skin in his neck again. Adding extra bruises next to the one he has created earlier that evening.  
  
One of his hands starts to roam his body yet again as the other one strokes him, until Chanyeol feels like he’s on fire.  
  
“Please. Please- ?“ He almost can’t take no more. He begs and fights to look him in the eyes expectantly. He wants a name to beg. To scream.  
  
He doesn’t get it. Only able to moan curses as the man sinks down onto his length and bites the sensitive skin above his shoulder while he adjusts to the size.  
  
He’s going to wear those teeth marks like a medal, if he allows him to at least.  
  
His head is spinning at the feeling of it all. It’s overwhelming. The connection. How tight the fit still feels. But when he moves- When he moves, it’s better than the rush of being drunk out of his mind.  
It’s better than anything he’s ever felt.  
  
He wants to meet those movements. Instinctively bucking his hips upwards but immediately regretting it as the man manhandles him into the mattress with an unexpected amount of force.  
  
He isn’t able to breathe, moan or even talk as the man rides him at a ruthless pace. Yet the tears stain the corners of his eyes. Hot and humiliating as they roll down his cheek. He isn’t able to stop himself.  
  
Doesn’t even understand why he’s crying now. Because he likes it? Or because he knows he’s just being used?  
  
“Last time, Chanyeol-“ the man pants, sweat staining his brow as he looks down at him through lust lidded eyes. His makeup is starting to smear. “What do you know?”  
  
He’s close. So close. And so is the other, as he quickens his pace to match the rhythm of his hand around himself.  
  
He shouldn’t answer, but he wants to finish. He needs it more than air at this point. “You’re the red tiger,” he moans, watching as the man comes undone. Clenching around him, releasing all over Chanyeol’s stomach. “You’re beautiful.”  
  
The man gives him a sated smile as he reaches for the gun. “And you’re the best cop I’ve ever had,” he grins, not batting an eyelash as he pulls the trigger.  
  
  
  
  


_(fin?)_

**Author's Note:**

> Started as a oneshot, might be adding onto this.  
> Also on twitter: @exosweave
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
